The Scent

It was early one Saturday
I was still in bed
A siren and and voices
Took over my head
I threw off the covers
Pushed aside the drape
Looked down from my window
My mouth flew agape
For down on the street
Bathed in light red
Was a stretcher and ambulance
My great grandmother dead
No one moving fast
She had died in her sleep
But I swear as I watched
Her eyes opened a peep
And for the briefest of moments
Her mouth curved in a smile
Fixated my way
We fixed gazes a while
The attendants turned round
She went back to no more
They loaded her in
As I started to roar
“Stop she’ not dead!”
I yelled as I ran
Barefoot down cold stairs
But a boy, not a man
Was coddled and hugged
And not listened to
I shivered and cried

as her perfume wafted across the sidewalk




Happy October!

A cold air greets their twitching noses
The cats run forth from their safe human home
Into the unexpected cold of the first morn of October
They stop
They listen
They sniff
They ponder
In a way only predators do
The cats sense a presence in the misty woods
The cats hear a crackle of leaves
They smell the musk of wild
Of big
Of menace
They utter silent meows to one other
And no one in particular
A low growl rumbles as wind drops leaves from above
Back to the door of the house
Their human opens it chastising them
For being cats
He steps out and smells and looks and listens
Alpha predator he, but nothing he senses
The woods seem oh so inviting for a early morning walk. ..